Matter of Perspective
by Narrie
Summary: Erin has grown up and seen the crime that ruins Gotham first hand. But what happens when Batman, the city's hero, disappears for 8 years and leaves the city without a protector? Erin soon finds herself, chosen by the public, as Gotham's new unknown hero and every day she struggles to decide if she's truly the hero or a villain. Blake/OFC/Selina. Pre-TDKR. Rating subject to change.
1. Monster

**Alright, so this is just a pilot for an idea I had. I don't know if it will fly with the FF populous because I haven't seen this kind of pairing before but I got really attached to the idea so I hope you all like it! I don't know how often I will update this story and I know the chapters will be shorter in length than my usual chapters but please let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for my OC.  
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"**Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters; united with it, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of marvels.**" - **Francisco de Goya**

"No p-p-please!" The man pleaded, blubbering like an idiot through his tears. They we're always this helpless at this point. Feeling the pressure of my blade against their temple always made them squeamish. "I will do anything. I have money!" His voice sounded excited as my eyes darted to his at the offer of money. He thinks he found his way out of his unchangeable death. "I can give you tons of money."

I smirked and looked away from him. He was lying down on a bench in the middle of the lobby of an abandoned apartment building. It was one of the few buildings that The Joker had oh-so-kindly blown up, but this one still had some solid foundation so the first few levels were still in decent condition; it was sterile enough. "Money cannot give those girls their lives back, now can they Mr. Meyers?" His eyes opened wide and he started to cry again. Pathetic.

"Stop crying. You make yourself look like an idiot. Tell me why. Why those little girls?" He sniffed back the last few tears, fear still in his eyes.

"I-I-I c-c-can't help myself. I'm s-s-sorry! I'm a monster." I smiled; I love hearing them come to their revelations, their realizations that they were a monster and a slave to their desires that they couldn't stop, just like me. I let my blade trace along the man's jaw line.

"You see Mr. Meyers—"

"James." He interrupted me to tell me him name. Does he think that will help me become attached to who he is if he tells me his first name? I stared at him with a blank stare, I couldn't help but feel pity for his lack of backbone; how could a man like this kill so many?

"James." I paused, smiling at him. "I too am a monster and I just can't…help…myself" My blade fell to his throat, I saw him swallow long and hard. "Think about it from my perspective James. You're a child molester and you murder them afterwards. I would be a _bad person_ if I let you leave, who's to say you won't do it again? So if I'm faced with a decision to either leave this place and let two evil's back into the world or one, what am I going to chose?" He opened his mouth but I put my blade over his lips. "What would you choose? And be honest, Mr. Meyers. I don't like dishonest answers."

I heard him gulp down the emptiness in his mouth. "One." He whispered.

"Sorry, I didn't quite hear you."

"Wa-Wa-One." I nodded my head as I heard him louder this time.

"Ah yes, one. Good choice." With those last words I sliced his throat and slowly watched his bleed out, a grin growing across my face. It was these moments that I had to savor, watching them slowly grow colder and darker as their last bit of life left their body.

I dropped my weight onto our couch, tired from my earlier excursion. I heard the tap run in the bathroom and Selina walked out of the room moments after. "You're back late." She said to me, only glancing towards my direction through her peripherals. I shrugged.

"Ran into trouble on my way home. Had to take a longer route." I saw her body go rigid and I smiled. I always liked putting her on edge, even if it wasn't necessary. "Don't worry, nobody saw me. It was just _him_ again, cutting off my escape route." She scowled.

"You run it too close with him sometimes. He's a cop! You may think you know him from your childhood, but this city has a way of stealing the innocence away from children as they grow up." It always made me smile when she showed that she cared for me in her own way. I groaned and stood up from the couch, stretching my muscles when I stood up.

"Here." I said as I tossed a wallet, keys, watch and a few pieces of jewelry onto the table. "We could probably find the Benz that man had if we wanted to go for a midnight stroll." I paused as I stared at the items on the table. I couldn't help but think if that was all that really mattered about our lives? What we posses? I sighed as I saw the face of the man I had just killed that night; I let out a dark laugh. "Oh and here are his fingerprints, free for your disposal." Selina smiled at me as she accepted my trophy. I always took the fingerprints of my victim's, it was more so for Selina to use but she always gave them back afterwards. I didn't know why fingerprints, there was never a really solidified reason to it; it was just something of convenience.

The other part of me, the side that held my logical moral compass, always tried to convince me that I took their fingerprints for other reasons. It a city like Gotham, fingerprints to a wealthy person could mean anything. It could mean I could access your bank, your home, and your work. With those simple pieces of identity, I could continue destroying their lives after death like they had done so many others. It just gave that added sense of accomplishment, like I truly ruined their lives and their legacy. Besides, it was a nice way to remember them by.

It was always hard for me to pick a trophy, most killers chose something that helps relate to what they love the most about killing another person. For some it's blood, for others it's a body part that has been hacked off. Selina wouldn't let me bring back a jar of blood or a dismembered body part so that was never an option. As for what I love most, it's the moment when they realize that it's all over, what trophy could I savor from that? I remembered their face in my head, so there was no use of a photo. So I always figured if Selina would influence me on what not to take back home, there was no reason she could influence what I should bring back.

"Don't you ever find it funny how it takes them losing their own life to see what horrible and horrendous things they've done on their own? They always beg at that point…always try to bribe me with money, like it's what I'm after." My voice was empty and hollow, it always sounded like this when I talked about the people I killed.

Selina opened her mouth but paused before any sound came out. "Um…" I knew she was thinking about her answer. I always liked that about her and I honestly think that's why our weird relationship always worked out so well. I hated people who didn't think through their actions, didn't think of how they would effect others; they were mindless and selfish people. But Selina wasn't like that, she attempted to act that way at times but it was more out of frustration then because that's what she actually wanted to do. "No." She scrunched her face as she shrugged quickly. "Not really. Besides, I like their money. You're the serial killer. I'm pretty sure enjoying the action of killing others is part of that criteria." I smirked and let out a small laugh.

"You know I don't _like_ do—"

"You like it. I've seen you in the act and I have never seen the passion you have during that moment in anything else you do, not even me." She always brought it back to us. I couldn't help but growl.

"Selina…I told you." I walked over to her and grabbed her lightly by the shoulders, forcing her to look into my eyes. "I love you, but what we have, or at least what I have for you, is platonic. I'm sorry." She slightly pouted and looked at me. God damnit, why does she have to look at me like that? "Stop it." I said in my 'grouchy' voice, as Selina likes to call it.

"Stop what?" She looked at me and tried to seduce me with her luscious red lips and bright eyes. I sighed and looked away.

"You know what, now stop it." I paused but then quickly changed the subject before we got into another fight. "How's the manor job going? Getting any closer to what Dagget wants you to get?" She would never tell me anything about her missions, just like I would never tell her who my next target was, but I never liked the idea of her working for Dagget; I didn't trust the man.

"It's alright. I'm slowly getting more familiar with the place. There's only one maid that takes the food up to Bruce's wing, I just need to be there long enough to be trusted with that job." I shook my head, the longer she waited meant the more hold Dagget would have on her and I didn't like people having control over my things.

"I could off her." Selina scowled and sighed heavily, pushing away from me.

"Stop talking about death like it's so easy for you to accept. Would you honestly be happy if you died tomorrow? I know you Erin! You act like you're okay with it all because if you don't then people will see the real you. Stop acting like that around me, it makes me sick." I glared at her through partially lidded eyes. Part of me knew she was right but how was I supposed to stop?

I had been this way my whole life; I was left to live in the streets when my father was viciously killed when I was 9. I brought myself up in a world full of crime, death and brutality, so I did what I had to do to survive; I killed those who were ready to kill me. It helped that when I was young, I was a diagnosed sociopath and ever since I can remember I felt the urge to kill.

It always starts off with animals, at least that's what I'm told but I'm not your everyday sociopath, so my upbringing into this role is slightly different. I grew up in a broken home, like most children of Gotham. My father beat/raped my mother on a daily/weekly basis, not having the decency to hide is from his only child's eyes. He would hit her in front of me, remove her clothing and fuck her in the kitchen as I would be cooking them dinner. It took me awhile to notice that this wasn't the life every child had growing up.

I was a quiet youth, I kept to myself mostly and rarely talked to people I didn't know. I never understood why people tried to be nice to those they didn't care about, I never understood why they were so dumb and I, to this day, don't care to understand why people do the things they do. I've accepted the fact that everyone has the ability to do good or do bad, it's just a matter of perspective as to what good and bad is that get's people in trouble.

Even though I kill other human's as a hobby and source of income, doesn't mean I _enjoy_ killing them. Yes, I have a power complex that makes me enjoy the moment before death, but that isn't all that makes a serial killer. I just know that if I don't kill sooner or later and give into that urge, then I will end someone's life who doesn't deserve it, but as I child I didn't truly understand the line between good and bad; until my mother died.

I was 7 when my father finally beat the life out of her, I was there when it happened and all I remember was looking at her, helpless, as she took her last breath. How, why or where it happened was all blocked from my memory; I doubt I even remember on a subconscious level. Looking back at that time though, I'm sure that was the day my mind snapped and I started to have a thirst for vengeance for those who couldn't protect themselves; I felt the need to protect the helpless and the harmless.

For years I plotted my first kill, what stopped me from executing my plans earlier was my struggle with moral reasoning; which I find is a useless trait of mine for the most part. Sure, my father was a monster for doing what he did to my mother, but wouldn't I become a monster too for killing him? Was a life for a life really valid? Could someone justify murder so easily? Luckily, the night my father died, I was given the catalyst I needed to ignite the fire inside of me and end the miserable man's life, but unlike my mother's death, I remembered my father's perfectly fine.

He was drunk off his rocker and looking for a good night, but with my mother gone he would usually go out and find a pretty prostitute; men like him always did. But with the recession and his hours getting severely cut at work, most likely to do with his drinking, there wasn't much money to go around and there defiantly wasn't enough money for a prostitute budget. That's when he first laid eyes on me, the way he looked at me and desired me made my skin crawl; the memory is the only thing that reminds me what fear can feel like.

I ran for my life and ended up in the kitchen with my sluggish and drunk father following me, beckoning my name. I grabbed a paring knife that was on the counter and held it out in front of my own body, readying myself for my father's attack. The only good thing that came from me seeing my mother get raped multiple times, a very small but significant positive side, was that I knew how to defend myself against his advances; I knew them all. He walked into the kitchen and laughed, his jowls and multiple chins almost flowed smoothly as I watched them intently.

"You're going to kill me? Like a did your cunt mother?" He boomed with laughter. "You don't have it in ya' kid." That was all I needed to light the fire and give me the will to lunge at my father and stab him in the throat, plunging my knife deep. I pulled the knife out and blood sprayed everywhere as he grabbed me by the throat. I started to stab his hands sporadically and when he finally dropped me, I took the knife and with one quick thrust, I impaled his crotch. I knew he was helpless at that point, when he was lying on the ground, writhing in pain. But I just watched him, my eyes never leaving his, as he slowly died on the kitchen floor in his own blood. "Help." He pleaded, like they always did but I just smiled.

"Go fuck yourself." I left the kitchen and quickly packed a bag. Taking anything of value in the house, anything that I could use to live on the streets or sell to others. Alcohol was the first thing I took, it was a common item of desire in Gotham, then clothes and finally any money, jewelry and car keys I could find.

"Erin?" Selina's voice brought me back to the Gotham I knew now. I looked up at her to see the familiar look of concern in her eyes. It wasn't the first time I blacked out and relived my memories. I felt an emptiness grow inside of me, looking down at the table I saw the car keys I had taken from my most recent victim. Grabbing them, I walked towards the door.

"Use his credit card and get yourself something nice. Same with Holly, okay? I'm going for a joy ride." I forced a smile towards Selina but I knew she wouldn't buy it, just accept it, which is all I ever asked for her to do. I never asked her to like me or love me, just tolerate and accept me for the monster I am.

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**So please Review! Let me know what you think and if you would like to see this story continue. It is starting off as Selina/OFC and will slowly turn into a Blake/OFC.**

**Thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you all soon :D  
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**Narrie  
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	2. Vigilante

**Thank you to those who have already put this story of follow and for BreeBree12345 for the lovely first review :D I hope I got Blake's character close and please let me know in a review or PM if you think I missed a mark on what he would say or do or if you think I did his character justice.**

**Enjoy!  
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**"Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with."  
― Brodi Ahston, _Everneath_**

I felt the cool air rush against my skin as the midnight breeze of Gotham rolled through the streets. I looked around at what I called home, streets covered in filth. Sure, the 'Dent Act' kept criminals behind bars but not everyone saw the same people as criminals; I personally care to take down those who pay off the higher up officials from putting them in the prison.

The judges, police officers, the CEO's, the ones who craved young flesh, the ones who craved the lives of the innocent…the corrupt. Those were the people I killed, the people I hunted down like the animals they were. Thinking about them set my teeth on edge. I exhaled and popped up the collar of my coat, breaking the wind from running along my neck; another feeling I hated.

Walking the streets at dark isn't what makes this city scary; in fact it's usually the safest time. Most petty thief's thought if you wore a long jacket and nice clothes that you were either wealthy enough to pay off officials or you were a cop, so, if anything, night time was the safest time in Gotham. It wasn't always like that though.

There was a time when all criminal's feared the night, even I scarcely killed under the moon's light when Batman was on a villain kick. Mind you, I was no villain but in the eyes of that vigilante, a petty car thief is worth locking up, let alone a serial killer like myself. He wanted us all behind bars because in his mind, that's where we belonged, but what about the rapists, the petty murderers? Did they not deserve the sweet justice that I gave them, or were they what we're expecting from the 'regular Joe's' of Gotham? It was common knowledge that if someone was missing for more than 2 days in this city that you should start checking rivers and other popular body dumps.

Luckily for me, I did a few people some favors when I was young and I have had a secure dumping ground for my bodies since then. Unknowingly, I ended up killing some mobster who liked 12-year-old pussy, who also happened to be harassing the family who ran the garbage company for Gotham. When they found out who killed him and found out what I did on a regular basis, they promised to keep my secret safe if I kept them safe. I wasn't thrilled to protect people, and it was a pretty stupid move on their part trusting a sociopath with their lives; something my kind of people never found the need to care for. But it's worked out pretty well so far, I dump my bodies there regularly and they always invite me in for tea. We talk about their business and my pleasure and then we part ways. I scratch their back and they scratch mine; it's how I view our business agreement.

I breathed in the cold air, filling my lungs with the night's filth. I loved it. My eyes scanned as I saw the prostitutes and escorts start to rise from their slumber and populate the street corners. If there were one thing in the world that could fix my inability to feel sad, it would be the girls who sell their bodies to survive and the fact that they have nobody to protect them. I can show I'm sad for them; it's the logical feeling a person who cares would have, especially since I used to be one of them. Any other regular human being would feel compassion towards those who suffered much like themselves, on a weird and twisted level I guess I do feel that connection, I just feel it stronger towards killing the people who caused them to suffer; but I guess that's as close as I will ever get to having normal human feelings and emotions.

I smiled at the memories of standing on those corners. I had started when I was 10, luckily I knew how to act and dress older so most perverts though I was at least 13 but when I confessed that I was 10, it never stopped them. It was an easy way to find prey, all the sick individuals needed to be serviced at some point and god knows they didn't have a woman waiting back home for them; nobody could be with the creeps that I killed and if they did have a significant other, I liked to think I was freeing them from their ball and chain. I always killed them before they could touch me though, I never allowed anyone to touch me and even Selina goes too far with her familiar caress, but I find myself sometimes enjoying that touch. I felt my body tremor at the idea of being touched in a sensual way.

"Erin?" I froze; people knowing your name around here wasn't always a good thing. I slowly turned around and saw the last person I wanted to see. His hair was perfect as always, his eyes clear and kind and his uniform so…nicely fitting. There was something about him that always made me lose my composure and feel…just feel.

"Robin." I threw my hand up, stopping his predicted protest. "No sorry, John. Or was it Blake? I get confused with all your name changes." He smiled at me and shook his head.

"Speak for yourself. I gave up after remembering Erin." I nodded and smiled too. It frustrated me beyond hell what being around him did to me, more so because I didn't understand it. Logically speaking, I would say I had feelings for him but I didn't have feeling for anything, so it wouldn't be logical for me to feel for him. I groaned as I felt a vicious and endless thought process loop through my mind. "You okay?" He grabbed my arm and I went rigid. He quickly released me from his grip and stepped back, giving me space. "I'm sorry. I forget." I gave him a meek smile. What is wrong with me?

"It's okay. It happens." And then I kill the person who does it to me. I grumbled miserable thoughts in my head in between sentences; it was a habit I had grown to have around him. I couldn't bear to be cruel or rude to him, something prevented me from doing it, so I had to suffer in silence as another side of me took over my body. "So what brings you to my part of town?" He scanned around.

"I was told there was a sighting of the infamous serial killer around here, just making patrol. You haven't seen any suspicious activity have you?" I told myself to act surprised. "They're calling her 'The Vigilante'." I couldn't help but scowl at the stupid and unoriginal name Gotham had given me, but I stopped myself, as Blake looked at me, confused.

"Nothing out of the ordinary here, not to say that isn't suspicious though, but you know the people who live down here. They're all skittish and strung out on some kind of drug." I paused as Blake looked at me with what I could only assume were worried eyes. Why was he looking at me like that? "I thought Batman was their vigilante." I wanted to change topics. "I just find it odd that they go from Batman to a serial killer. Before we know it, they'll be begging for Falcone and Scarecrow to come back and become Gotham's saviors." I scratched my head, trying to understand why and how I had now become Gotham's new hero. "It just doesn't make logical sense…why a mass murderer? Why make that person their new unknown hero?"

Blake smiled. "She isn't a mass murderer. We've only found five bodies so far but they've shown up over the past few months." Only because I allowed you to find those 5 bodies…idiot. "But that's what I thought at the beginning, why her? But—" I cut him off, almost not wanting to hear what he was about to say.

"You can't tell me that you agree with this person's actions? They're killing people as they please!" One of the positives to hating myself, is I can make it believable to other people that I do, truly, hate this serial killer.

"Well why not? I mean yeah, at first I didn't but she's getting to criminals that the cops can't touch. She's giving hope to those who believed that Batman saved us, and if this person can give another hope, then why not believe in them? I just wish I could help, not kill them, but just help catch the people she wants to kill. They deserve to be behind bars." His tone had hints of admiration in it. I was honestly surprised that I had a cop for a fan, that I had Gotham watching my every move. I could no longer be careless and I definitely could no longer play cat and mouse with the officials.

As a person who has been doing this for 12 years, I got kind bored a few months back. I got sloppy and was almost found in the act of killing someone, luckily I finished the job before the cops showed up but I didn't have enough time to dispose of the body, or at least hide it. But the thrill of almost getting caught, of them knowing I was out there, preying on others; the fear it instilled in the city was intoxicating.

I thrived on that feeling and soon enough, when I got bored I did it again. To feel that adrenaline of almost getting caught, that moment when you're running as fast as you can so you don't get found out. I lived for it; I _live_ for it, but not anymore. I couldn't risk it if they already can find out that the killer's a female.

"A lot of people deserve to be behind bars with the Dent Act." I let a sigh escape my lips as I thought of how much aggravation the 'Dent Act' has caused me. "How do you know it's a female though?" I asked, innocence dripping from my words as I tried to cover my more brooding attitude from before.

"Well." He paused, watching my expression. "They don't, but the way the victim's are always killed, the way the bodies are cut, our forensics team believes that it's a female and that she thinks of the first person she kills every time she kills another. It's theorized that reason is what has driven her pattern." They're right about that.

"Sounds like you know so much about her already. Are you sure you don't know her personally?" He smiled at my joke and I smiled too, more at the direct irony of the situation than anything. But when his smile faded, he stood in silence as I watched him fidget with his uniform. "Can I help you with something Blake?" He looked up at me, his eyes hopeful.

"Um, well I was wondering if maybe sometime you wouldn't mind getting coffee with me?" He quickly continued when he saw my shocked expression, but he misjudged why I looked shocked. "I know it's not the best thing to ask after talking about a serial killer but I never see you and—" My insides were screaming no, the real me didn't want to get involved with Blake, to drag him into the double life I lead, but I wasn't in control of myself at the moment. Unfortunately.

"Yes." I let out a nervous laugh; I couldn't believe what I just did. "Um, yes. That would be lovely. We can finally catch up instead of having these small, momentary talks." Blake smiled at me nervously and then looked down, his feet slightly fidgeting.

"I'm off duty this Tuesday. I can meet you here and we can go for coffee. See you here for midnight? I know you aren't a fan of getting up while the sun is in the sky." I couldn't help but laugh.

"Despite popular belief, I just don't sleep. I'm up all hours of the day; you just never patrol this area during that time so you wouldn't know that. How about noon, that way we can get lunch too. I love lunch." I smiled at him, a genuine smile; something I hadn't done in years. "I uh…have to go. But I will see you Tuesday. It was nice running into you Blake. Be safe." I quickly walked around the corner and continued my path to find the stupid car that I wanted to simply have a joy ride in, but it had lost all appeal to me by this time. Sighing I decided I would just take a detour back home and try to decide how to tell Selina that I had a date on Tuesday and the fact that I, Erin Summers, was Gotham's new unsung hero.

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**Please review and let me know what you think so far :D I'm pretty nervous with how I did the interaction between Erin and Blake, so please just let me know if I got it right or not xD **

**I hope you enjoyed the story and more is to come! I should be updating soon, the weekend is starting to look pretty busy for me now so I don't know how soon I will be able to update, but it will be by Monday the latest.  
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**Cheers!  
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**Narrie  
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	3. Past

**Thank you so much to those who have reviewed, followed and added this story to your favorite list! I know it's not the normal type of fic and I'm happy to know that there are some people out there who enjoy the idea just as much as me :D**

**With that, please enjoy the newest installment!  
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**"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."  
****―** Oscar Wilde  


"Hey Mom." I was at the grave my mother's body should have been under. I stood on the grass that should be thriving off of the nutrients of her decaying body. Dark thoughts, I know, but a body isn't the person they were when they were living. It was just an empty vessel that carried their spirit, their memories and the person that you were attached to. But they left that outer shell when they took their final breath, leaving us, the living, with a physical thing to remember them with.

I never understood why people hugged a dead corpse or even, god forbid, kissed it. How did society not see that as repulsive as I thought it to be, a person who did that deserved to have their mind checked…mind you, they're all probably hopelessly in love with the person that used to inhabit that body, a feeling I knew I would never have and never understand.

I crouched down and ran my hands over her gravestone. I had paid for the plot once I had stolen enough money from people, I had a private burial so I could say my goodbyes but I always came back when I needed to think clearly. "I'm a hero, mom…or so they say…" My voice sounded empty, to some it may have sounded sad from the loss of my mother, but they would be wrong. I'm just hollow on the inside. Exhausted from the stress I was feeling after my conversation with Robin, I sat down with my legs crossed on my mothers plot.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like sometimes I just do what I do to those people because I hope that it will bring you back. I can't help but think if you were still here, I could stop all of this. Maybe if you were never taken away from me, I never would have been lead down this path." My fingers traced patterns in the grass. "But I'm a hero, so I'm doing something right…right?" A sigh escaped me as I fought in my head what I was.

I didn't regret killing those people, and I, to some degree, thoroughly enjoy it, so wouldn't that make me the villain and not the hero? How am I not on the same level as Scarecrow, The Joker or even Batman; the public seems to hate him enough these days. "Why me!" I half yelled out of frustration.

"Why you, what?" I heard Commissioner Gordon call from behind me. I couldn't help but smile; I should have known the bastard would have been waiting for me here. "We found another body." I turned around and looked at him, my face emotionless.

"And when was that? I haven't heard anything on the streets and word travels fast Commissioner. I would have known within the hour it was found." Jim had always been there for me growing up, I guess he found himself compelled to help the poor and innocent child he thought I was and get me off the streets. He always bailed me out when I got in trouble with the officials too, sometimes I felt mean for taking advantage of him but at the same time, he did want to help me. A smile crept over my face as he just looked at me and scowled. "You won't be getting anything out of me. I don't know who this 'Vigilante' is and—"

"How do you know their name? That hasn't been released to the press." I rolled my eyes and let my head fall back as far as it could go.

"I keep on telling you, _Commissioner_." I mocked his title as I raised my head to look at him again. I had no idea why I added the theatrics; I guess I felt bored with the conversation and the fact that we were now talking in circles. "People on the streets hear everything. I lived that life long enough to know everyone who matters."

"Of course you do. You also know the people who are slowly disappearing, bodies not found. Are we to believe that they just up and left town Erin?" I watched him with steady eyes. Why was he asking me these questions? I didn't like the fact that he was asking me, of all people, these questions.

"I don't know. Why not go ask your other detective friends." I saw the rage cultivate in his eyes and his expression. His cheeks grew a bright red.

"Cut the crap Erin." He crouched down so he was at eye level with me. "I know who you are, okay? I have known, since I met you, what troubled demon you hid from everyone. You were a kid, you weren't good at hiding it when you got upset and you felt comfortable around me so you didn't try as hard _to_ hide it." I sat, not able to say anything. For some reason I felt like I was being scolded by a parent. Like I had played with something only grown-ups could play with. And the realization that all this time Gordon knew I was killing those people, yet he protected me. Why? "I took you under my wing in hopes that it would have stopped you. Maybe you would become a cop and fight the bad guys that way. Not like this." I cracked a smile, finding a spot to put in a witty comment.

"I'm still doing the job though." In the years I had known Jim, I always thought I had known the level of frustration and disappointment he would cap at. How deep his frown or scowl could go, the brightest shade of red that his face would turn. But I was wrong.

"That's not the point!" He yelled and quickly cut off his own words, waiting for himself to calm down. "You have to stop this now Erin. You're going to get caught and I won't be able to bail you out this time." I was frustrated now. Who was he to tell me I had to stop and if he'd known this whole time and hasn't turned me in yet, then he won't. I stood up and looked down at Jim Gordon, the closest thing I had to a father figure and one of the few people who knew my true intentions in this city.

"Do you know what will happen if I stop? Innocent lives will be lost, so you choose. Because this is who I am, Jim." That was the first time I had said his actual name out loud. Even as a child I always called him Gordon if I wasn't calling him Commissioner. I saw that got his attention, he saw the distain on my face, the disgust I had for the hunger I felt to kill others.

"It doesn't have to be though Erin." I heard the sadness in his words, pleading me to reform, as if I could. "I will help you. We can go hunting together, I will do whatever it takes but you don't have to do this anymore." I glared at him.

"What do you know about what I must and mustn't do?"

"I know that the line between good and evil isn't fixed. People can live in ignorant bliss and believe that if you are good you cannot become corrupt, that they are not subject to acts of evil. The line can move and those who think they are evil, they can cross that line. You do not have to live this life anymore. I beg of you Erin, listen to me." I let out a heavy sigh and rubbed the back of my neck.

"I'm not a fan of the title 'Vigilante'—"

"What would you have called yourself?" My lips turned into a tight curl as Gordon cut off my sentence with a dumb question.

"Nothing. I don't do this for fame, or to get a name of myself. The city named me that for that reason. Unlike all of the villains and the crazies Gotham has seen, they're all out there to make a scene, to cause chaos but I'm different." I paused, finally seeing what I failed to before. How only in this city a serial killer could be seen as the good samaritan who's just doing their patriotic duty. "It was only until I left evidence for you did you figure that I existed. Before you did just believe that they up and left town or a mobster got them. That's the issue with this city." Jim was looking at me with a gaze of wonder, trying to figure out how the innocent little girl he found on the streets could have turned into such a monster.

"We live in a city run by cowards who get easily influenced by the corrupt. I'm pretty sure there was a point when you were the only decent cop in the city and even then, _even then_, you become corrupt yourself." Gordon's eyes became wide and he started to protest my words but I talked over him. "Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful you let the Batman take the fall for Harvey Dent, it's let me roam free and clean up the filth that ruins our city when I please and it even leaves time for me to have a little bit of a life."

"And what happens when there is no filth for you to clean up?" I laughed and leaned down to give Gordon a kiss on his slightly trembling cheek.

"Gotham has a way of collecting, attracting and harvesting filth, Commissioner. Of all people, you should know that." I walked away, leaving him to think about what I had said to him and giving me the walk home from the cemetery to think about what he said to me.

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**Hope you all liked the added relationship to Gordon. :D **

**I'm not sure what else to write, honestly my mind just drew a blank right as I started to type this out however, please read and review. Let me know what you think. I love feedback and especially in the earlier stages it really helps me out :D  
**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my writing, it means a lot to me and I hope you enjoyed it and can't wait for the next chapter ^^  
**

**Cheers,  
**

**Narrie  
**


	4. Present

"**The present is never our goal: the past and present are our means: the future alone is our goal. Thus, we never live but we hope to live; and always hoping to be happy, it is inevitable that we will never be so."**

— **Blaise Pascal  
**

"What?" Her voice was high pitched, almost shrieking. I understood she was upset but I always thought the tone changes were unnecessary and, quite frankly, annoying.

"I don't know what happened. I guess a few of the bodies slipped out of their bags?" I laughed as I watched Selina directly reject my lie as all emotion and expression left her face. "I wanted a bit of fun." I pleaded my case playfully. "Just wanted to mess with them a bit. There are no prints and nothing to trace them back to me or us. Don't worry." I walked closer to her and kissed Selina. I knew it was unfair to win the argument that way; I knew she would become putty in my hands, relaxing instantaneously and agreeing to my every word.

"Okay." She whispered before I allowed her to kiss me again. I didn't care for the act, I found it meticulous and redundant, but it made her happy and she stayed around if she was happy; it was a worthy sacrifice of my self-comfort. Luckily, Selina knew where to stop. I never wanted to be touched, I was okay with hands on my cheeks or playing with my hair but that was it, she couldn't touch me anywhere else.

"The Vigilante?" She asked, laughing. I sighed and hung my head.

"I know!" I raised my hands in anger. "What kind of ridiculous name is that? _The Vigilante_" I teased the name, mocking it's very being and the irony between the name and the behavior of Gotham's new 'hero'. Even in my mind, I know it should be wrong that a killer is to be seen as a hero; especially with everything this recession has brought us. It's never ending horrors of disease, starvation, poverty and death. "Make's me sound like a hippy dippy, peace loving person."

Selina cooed at me and grabbed my cheeks, forcing me to look at her. "I think your loving." She said, pouting at me. My eyebrows rose, as I looked at her, my eyes steady on her stunning face.

"Piss off." She laughed and released me. I walked into the kitchen and started to pour myself a glass of water. "There's something else I have to tell you."

"Oh?" I heard the natural shock in her voice.

"I ran into Blake again." I heard her growl and then I saw her in the opening to our kitchen. "He…asked me out on a date." I heard her howl with laughter. "I said yes." The silence that came after my last word was unparallel to any other we had ever shared. She was pissed.

"You what?" I grabbed my glass and turned to look at Selina, leaning against the counter. I opened my mouth to attempt a counter to her rising anger, but I wasn't fast enough. "You, the person who refuses to take me, the person your supposed to love, out for dinner or _anywhere_ for a date, but you will go out for date with HIM?" I was in for it now. I sighed inwardly and fought every urge I had to roll my eyes.

"Selina. It's not like that. You know _I_ would never say yes but I am not myself when I am with him. It's like." My head hurt thinking about it. How was I to explain all of this without sounding insane?

"It's like what? You better fucking explain yourself Erin." My temples started to throb as she continued to yell. I let out a small growl at the pain she was causing me. I hated having headaches, they always seemed to impair my ability to think and the slight throbbing always made it annoying to have them.

"Stop yelling and I will. Just." I waved my hand at her, trying to get her out of the doorframe so I could sit down on the couch. "Just move and sit down. This will be a long discussion." She walked backwards, confusion covering her face. She was scared, maybe of me leaving her or maybe it was because I never talked about my past; she doesn't even know I killed my father. I sat down on the couch as she sat in the chair across from me.

"When I was little." I paused; it seemed so long ago, the time where I had the little amount of innocence I was allowed in a city like Gotham. "I, as you know, was told I had sociopathic tendencies. They stressed tendencies, because even though I was quiet and shutout from society by my own choice, I had never thought about forcing death upon another." Death. The thought of it made me smile now; the beauty I saw in the act of killing someone was breathtaking and the moments before I slit their throat made me speechless.

"The only person I was ever friendly towards was the boy I was neighbors with. Robin." I didn't understand as a child and I still don't understand to this day, why I tolerated having him close to me. The only person I ever loved was my mother and that was because she protected me and endured what she did from my father so that he wouldn't do it to me. I loved the action and morals she stood by, I admired her courage. That was the closest feeling to love I would ever get; admiration. So why did I allow my neighbor to sit on my steps and play cards with me? That answer always escaped me.

"Robin is Blake. We lost touch of each other after…" I would tell her the true story of my father another time. This was hard enough for me to explain, I hated talking about my past. It made people think of me as something I am not, someone who has empathy and can care for other things. "When my father died, I ran away from home. It was only when Robin became a cop did he start running into me again. When I was around him, I started to…" I paused as the feelings came back. My chest felt light, I could breath easier and for some reason I almost felt sad.

"Remember. I started to remember what it felt like to not be obsessed with death. It makes me hope that I could be normal. My world isn't so dark with him around." I looked up at Selina and I saw the glint in her eyes that suggested tears were forming.

"I become a different person around him, Selina. It's not me; it's not Erin Summers or Kathy Willes. I turn into Cindy Marks, the girl I was when I was seven and I'm around my only friend, the only person I would tolerate and the only person who admired the innocence I had." She looked at me with her sad eyes and understanding features. She loved me with all her heart, I always pitied her for it and that's why I took care of her. It wasn't her fault she felt an odd and twisted sense of compassion for my cruel and non-caring behavior; she was helpless against the passion she felt for me.

"I'm glad you found someone like that." I couldn't help but smile. For such a powerful and strong willed woman, she acted spineless around me at times.

"Selina. I am not planning on leaving you, it's just a date and even at that. You bring men around here all the time and I do not complain—" I saw the fury in her eyes. I had said the wrong words. Fuck.

"So you want to sleep with him?" Oh gods, now she was getting irrational. I had to stop it before my patience got too thin with her antics.

"Selina." My voice was threatening and she sunk into her chair, knowing I was going to get angry soon; that was still an emotion I could feel on my own. "You know better than anyone that I have no desire for that kind of thing. I'm just trying to say that I couldn't help it; I knew I shouldn't have said yes but I did anyways. I'm sorry" We sat in silence as she digested what I said. I had to focus on calming myself down, if she saw my anger it wouldn't help her start talking again. It always frustrated me when I scared her, I didn't want to but I always managed to do it.

"Commissioner Gordon came by looking for you." Selina's voice was back to normal. I had obviously hidden my anger enough for her to know I wasn't mad with her anymore. The topic change however, was obvious to me that Selina was done talking about Blake for a while.

"Did he?" Of course the bastard did. "When was that?"

"Just before you got back. He said you were already on your way home? Did you run into him as well tonight?" Her voice was sweet but I could hear the sarcasm behind it. I rolled my eyes.

"Selina…don't do that. And no, I didn't, he's probably just checking up on me. You know how he is when it comes to me." I stood up from my seated position, stretching my body. "He feels compelled to give me a father figure. You know…" I waved my hands around. I didn't care to have a serious conversation anymore, "since I never had one." I smiled and turned around to look at Selina but she was just looking at me and scowling. My smile quickly turned into a frown. "You're ruining my fun."

"You're idea of fun and my idea of fun are two completely different things." She scowled at me and relaxed on the couch. I couldn't help but laugh.

"You could say that." I mused, peering out of my window so I could see the good people of Gotham getting up and heading to work in the morning. Oh how simple their lives are, but then again, the life of the hunted was always an easy and simple life.

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**Thank you thank you thank you for the lovely reviews and amazing favorites and the awesome follows :D You are all awesome and amazing and lovely people for it.**

**Sorry, I'm in a weird mood. . But anywho, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and don't you worry about her getting a mask ;) All in due time. I honestly love this story so much and I hope you all do too!  
**

**I am sorry if Selina sounded a bit babyish this chapter, you don't really see her distressed or overly upset in the movie so I kinda just went with how her feelings for Erin would make her act.  
**

**Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, what you hope to see in the future and what you think of the story as a whole so far :) I love feedback and it helps me motivate myself to pull late hours to write for you guys.  
**

**On that note, I am really sorry for the large gap in between updates. I'm usually not this bad, I promise! Like just got stupid busy for some reason and I was up early and home late. Finally have a day off though so I promised myself I would update and I did :D Hope it was worth the wait.**

**With that, thank you for reading and I am forever grateful that you are enjoying this story with me as I create it :)  
**

**Cheers,  
**

**Narrie  
**


	5. Future

**So writer's block wasn't kind to me and that's the reason this story has taken so long to write. I had about the first three paragraphs started over a week ago and my brain just shut off after that part, HOWEVER. Thank you to WinterRain36 for reminding me that sometimes I just need to tell my brain to stop being sassy and push through it. So thank you for that and thank you for allowing those creative juices to flow since I will be starting on the next chapter almost right away :D**

**With that, I want to thank you for still reading this story and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter :)  
**

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"**Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future."**

— **John F Kennedy**

It was Monday and I had been laying low since my run in with Gordon, but that itch had come back and I could no longer ignore it. I was following a man by the name of Horace; I had been tracking his movements, his whereabouts and his visits to the street corners over the weekend. He had left quite the impression on me.

He would cut the girls and take some of their blood, either a fetish or a beginning to a serial killer, either way it had to end. After he got his trophy, he would do his bidding and then knock them out and leave without paying them. Quite barbaric really, fucking a girl and not even paying her for pretending to get pleasure out of it, hardly a way to treat a lady Horace. Sounds like mommy never taught him proper manners, guess that job falls to me now.

I watched him do his routine all weekend; sometimes he would meet up with three girls in one day. There was no stopping this man and I saw enough to know that this was a pattern and that there had to be multitudes of other prostitutes he meets with that I don't see. I could only fathom how may vials of blood he had at home.

So I followed him home one day after his trip to the supermarket, it was during the day so someone being near him or possibly glancing his way would not put him off. He was a predator of the night; the daytime was his moment to rest and his time to pretend to be normal; something I gave up a long time ago.

I felt my mind flash to Robin; would I be willing to try it for him? I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thought. I didn't understand why at this moment I thought of him, before I made my kill. This moment was sacred to me, this was the moment when I could let go, stop processing what was the next logical step, stop calculating possibilities of reactions from what decisions I make. I could breathe easy again.

So why think of Robin at this time? I could not fathom an idea as to why and it would be something I would ponder later but right now, I had to focus.

I saw my moment; he was about to walk by a very open alley that was also the beginning of the not-so-pretty part of Gotham. It was the perfect place. I ducked into a large and fast moving tourist group, passing my target without him knowing the better. Slipping out of the group, I hung in the shadows of the alley, waiting for _dear_ Horace to come by.

In a split second he went from walking as a free man, to being a trapped animal in my chokehold, scrambling for his life but it was futile; I could feel his body giving up.

I quickly reached into my pocket and grabbed a small syringe, pushing it into his neck; I released the fluid, causing Horace to go limp in my grasp. I made sure to place the syringe safely back into my pocket before dragging him out into the busy street.

"Help." I called out. "Please, my husband." Tears grew in my eyes and I started to make myself panic. I had to play that part to prevent having to explain why I was dragging an unconscious body, but I was counting on the fact that there has to be some good people who will fall for my tricks.

Like I predicted, two middle aged men hurried to my rescue. They grabbed Horace by the arms and raised him into a vertical position. "Thank you." I blubbered. "The car is right here."

I walked them to a grey Toyota, a common car for Gotham. I opened the passenger door and let the gentlemen place Horace into the seat, even buckled him in at my request; I had to make sure my husband was safe. I thanked them again hastily before they left my prey alone with me. I smiled and got into the car.

"We will have a nice time Horace. I promise." I said, more to myself than anything. I knew Horace couldn't hear me and I knew nobody else was around to listen to my small banter, but I was excited.

I could taste the kill on my tongue, the way it tingled and sent chills down my spine; it enthralled me and captivated me. I couldn't help but let go and enjoy this moment.

* * *

Horace awoke, yanking at the chains the bound him. "I wouldn't do that." I said, calmly as I walked into his view. "Hello Horace." I chimed, smiling brightly at him while I delicately played with the knife in my hands.

"Wh-wh-who are you?" I slanted my head to the side, my brow slightly furrowing.

"They call me _The Vigilante_." I made a sound to express my disgust and I saw Horace frown. "I know, right? What a stupid name and its so contradicting. I mean, here I am." I paused as I walked towards Horace, stopping only a foot away from him. "Prepared to kill you, yet I'm the hero?" I let out a tiny laugh. "I never understood you people."

"You people? You're just like us—"

"Don't you even dare try to compare me to everyone else." I had the knife to his throat. "I'm not like you, Horace." I sneered and stepped back, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Do you know where we are?" I asked, knowing I wouldn't get an answer. "We're in the place where I was first raped. Now I saw raped because the man brought me here, fucked me and never paid me. He knocked me unconscious and left me in the middle of FUCKING nowhere. I was thirteen, I had no way of defending myself, and do you know what that man ended up doing later in life?" I asked, again not expecting an answer.

"He killed two of my girls, two of _my_ friends because they fought back. He tried to leave without paying and they stopped him, so he beat them until you couldn't even recognize them." I put my lips right next to Horace's ear and whispered. "He enjoyed it." I smiled. "And so would you if it ever came to that."

"No! No, never. I would never hurt someone."

"Liar!" I yelled. "Another reason why I am not like _you people_. I don't understand how thick you can all be, how you all choose to be so oblivious to the world surrounding you. You don't think Gotham is filled with filth? With corrupted scum? You're a fool to think it's not. I learnt the truth the hard way in life."

"What are you going to do to me?" He slightly cried, panic setting in as he stood, chained up to a wall. I looked down at my knife as I pressed the tip against one of my fingers, slightly drawing blood. I saw Horace's eyes dart to my finger; I saw the hunger and the thirst for the red liquid that poured from my skin.

"One day, this," I brought my finger close to his face, making sure he could smell the aroma, "won't be enough for you. One day, that slight cut that you give all the girls won't satisfy you. Eventually you will need more, a higher dosage of your drug, higher quantity." I paused, my finger lingering under Horace's nose.

"It's always the same with you molesters—it's never about the quality, just the quantity." I drew my finger back and I saw him leave his place of serenity, I saw the darkness grow in his eyes as they started to fill with tears.

"I've wanted to do it for awhile." He confessed, his eyes suddenly on mine. Something about him started to unnerve me; this wasn't what always happened during these things. Why wasn't he begging by now? Surely he knew my intentions, that I would be killing him soon. So why wasn't he begging me to let him go? "Kill someone." He said, shakier this time.

"I've dreamt about it," he started to cry, "fantasized about it…oh god!" He cried out and I smiled, not only did he justify his death even further for me, but he was acting as he should, as they always do. I felt at ease as things were slowly going back to normal.

"Please…" He begged in between heavy sobs. "Kill me, please god just kill me. I'm a monster." Tears were streaming down this man's face as he begged me to kill him, to end his life as if it was what he wanted. I stood still, not moving, trying to understand what this man was saying, what he meant by it. Was he trying to throw me off my game? Was he trying to distract me—unnerve me? I didn't understand, this has never happened to me before. Never has anyone ever begged for me to end their miserable life.

"Please, just do it. I don't want to be like this anymore."

"Why?" I asked, more in impulse than anything. The man stopped crying almost instantly and looked at me, confusion widely spread across his features.

"Why what?" He asked, perplexed and his voice still slightly shaky.

"Why do you not want to be like that anymore?" Horace slightly shook his head, letting it hang.

"Because I'm not like you." He whispered and I felt a rage come over me. How dare he toy with me, try to be smart in a time that I was in power, but something in me didn't want to kill him. Some part of me felt like it would be wrong but when Horace looked back up at me, my hand reached out on it's own accord and sliced his throat.

I felt my heart beat faster, adrenaline rush through my body but a coldness start to grow when I saw his thankful eyes—he was thanking me. I felt light headed and a sudden need for fresh air.

I rested my back against the door once I was outside. The fresh, cold air filling my lungs, I felt my knees grow weak and I felt sick to my stomach. What was happening to me?

I had never had this feeling before, this…regret? I didn't want to kill that man even though he deserved it. He confessed to wanting to kill, wanting to murder! So then why did I hesitate? Why did I have to rely on muscle memory to get the job done while I detached my mind from the action?

I couldn't bear going back into that room, the thought made me want to throw up. For the first time in my life, I was disgusted with myself.

So this is what it feels like to have a conscious? I sighed and banged the back of my head against the door. I hated it. Why me? Why now? Curse his stupidity and weak mindedness. Why did he have to ask me to kill him?

Growling out of frustration, I pushed myself off the door and left. I left the car and left Horace hanging, naked, in that room. I never left traces; I always made sure of that. I went in with little equipment, always wore gloves and always had my hair covered. However, I knew that if Horace had never seen my face, I could have let him go, I could have let him loose and give him time to kill himself.

If I was to be Gotham's new _hero_, then I should act the part, but before I could do that I had to find out whom The Batman was and where he's gone. He has a new protégé to teach.

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**John will be next chapter! I promise he isn't gone. haha but what did you think? Let me know in a review or PM :D**

**Also, Kindleflame5 and Highlander348 bring up good points that yes, she needs to wear a mask and yes, The Vigilante isn't working for me or Erin. So I want to see what you guys want. Tell me your suggestions and next chapter I will put them up and see what you all like best. You can send me your suggestions in a PM or in a review, either is fine with me. But let me know what you think her persona name should be, what kind of mask she should wear, even the color scheme of her suit if you want to. I always like hearing what other people imagine it to be like, ya know?  
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**With that, I want to apologize again for taking so freaking long with this story, I just didn't want to force it and mess it up. I hope that didn't happen today X| Also, thank you thank you for your ongoing support and kind reminders that I need to update. Sometimes I need that little kick in the caboose to get me going, so I encourage it!  
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**Much love!  
**

**Narrie  
**


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